


Imposters

by Nary



Category: Hunger Games Trilogy - Suzanne Collins
Genre: Chromatic Character, Dubious Consent, Hand Jobs, Kissing, Lies, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-02-06
Updated: 2012-02-06
Packaged: 2017-10-30 16:45:32
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 740
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/333866
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Nary/pseuds/Nary
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>He knew about Finnick, of course - everyone did, and not only because of his victory, but because of all his subsequent conquests.  Cinna had heard the whispers too, the rumours that anyone could have Finnick... for the right price.  He presumed that price must be very high indeed, and had no interest in paying it.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Imposters

Cinna strode through the party like he belonged there, gracefully acknowledging the compliments of the Capitol's finest, stopping to converse with willowy socialites who wanted him to design gowns for them, trying to ignore the way his heart was lodged in his throat. He felt like an imposter here amongst these glittering savages. He could clothe them and dazzle them, but he could never completely understand them.

"You," purred the voice behind him, "look like you need a drink." He turned and saw Finnick Odair's famous smile. Being Cinna, he couldn't help admiring the outfit Finnick (or his handlers) had chosen for the evening - a shimmering blue-green tunic cut away at the sides so it flared when he moved, showing glimpses of golden skin beneath. It was simple, but devastating. He took the glass Finnick was offering him, full of blue fizzing bubbles, with a nod.

He knew about Finnick, of course - everyone did, and not only because of his victory, but because of all his subsequent conquests. Cinna had heard the whispers too, the rumours that anyone could have Finnick... for the right price. He presumed that price must be very high indeed, and had no interest in paying it. Consequently he was on his guard, even though his body responded involuntarily to the young man's heartless beauty.

"I wanted to meet you," Finnick told him. "After your triumph. Everybody does, don't they."

"I suppose they do," Cinna said, smiling. "Mostly they want me to design an outfit for them. Is that what you want?"

"You'd have to take my measurements," Finnick replied, and Cinna bit back the urge to say that they were public knowledge. "Come to my room in an hour." He gave him the number and slid off through the crowd before giving Cinna a chance to answer, as if he knew it was a foregone conclusion.

Cinna thought of standing the arrogant bastard up, just on principle, but somehow when the hour was up he found himself at Finnick's door, feeling nervous and foolish and half-expecting something to go horribly wrong. He was just about to turn around and leave when Finnick opened the door. He was wearing nothing now except a wisp of the same blue-green silk at his crotch, as tight as if it had been painted on, stretched taut and mesmerizing. Cinna was drawn in despite his better judgment. 

"You're overdressed," Finnick told him, and helpfully started undoing his shirt, pushing it open, running his hands over Cinna's bared chest. Cinna took his wrists - helpless, really, Finnick could overpower him if he chose, but it was the gesture that mattered.

"Stop," he said. "Why am I here?"

Finnick looked at him as if it was an insane question. "Because you want me," he said, "because you're hungry for this."

Cinna shook his head, not a denial so much as a negation. "Why are you here, that's the better question."

For a brief second a shadow blossomed behind Finnick's green eyes, and Cinna saw that he was as much an imposter as any of them. Then he smiled and it passed like a cloud from in front of the sun. "I want the truth, of course. How you made that plain little girl from District 12 catch fire."

"I can't tell you," Cinna said, although it turned into a groan when Finnick's hand slid down his stomach, under the waist of his trousers. "Trade secret. It wouldn't suit you anyway," he added.

"No?" Finnick's mouth was at his throat, his tongue scraping against the light stubble there. "What would you do for me, then?"

"Water," Cinna said without thinking. "cold and beautiful and unforgiving, like the sea."

"Do I feel cold?" Finnick pressed him back against the wall. "Am I that cruel?"

"I don't know," Cinna gasped. "But that's what people want you to be, they want to think only they can break your heart, and that's what I'd show them."

Finnick flicked open the clasp of his trousers and shoved them aside, fingers closing tight around his cock, and Cinna lost all semblance of control and kissed him, tongue between his lips, teeth hard against teeth. "Maybe you can be the one who breaks my heart," Finnick teased when he finally drew back, breathless. 

"I'm not sure you have one," Cinna said, and didn't resist when he was pushed onto the bed, Finnick on top, bearing him down like a tidal wave.

**Author's Note:**

> You can find me on Tumblr at [naryrising](https://www.tumblr.com/blog/naryrising) if you want to ask questions, make requests, or chat!


End file.
